Every Moment
by carinims01
Summary: Merlin needs help. Freya has a promise to keep. Set during season 4. No slash. Freylin.


Disclaimer: IDOM

I just can't seem to get away from this fandom, no matter what I do. Sorry for taking so long to upload something, and I want to thank you all for all of your reviews. They continue to astound me, and I promise that I read and appreciate each and every one of them. So thank you.

I was in the mood for Freylin today. Craving it, really. That, coupled with these sad songs I keep listening to, make for a healthy dose of fanfiction.

I hope you enjoy it!

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It was meant to be a nice day out. Just a nice picnic with friends to celebrate the first day of spring in Camelot.

In the forest.

Several hours outside of Camelot.

All of the knights had brought their swords, of course, but even that did nothing much to deter the horde of bandits that had chased after them. Their swords did not stop the crossbows firing after them. Nor did they prevent an arrow from piercing through Merlin's abdomen from behind.

The young man howled and crashed to his knees in the underbrush. His eyes were clenched shut and his fingers shook at the arrow's base.

Guinevere's shrill scream echoed through the trees.

" _Merlin!"_ Arthur screeched. He skidded to a halt beside him and grabbed his friend beneath his arms, trying not to further injure him as he hauled him upright. Merlin let out a dull groan of pain, but Arthur could tell it hurt much worse than he was letting on. "Hang in there, Merlin. Please."

The knights paused and looked back at the bandits, swords poised to fight if necessary. The last thing they were expecting was hundreds of blue dots to begin swarming past them and crowding their attackers.

"Sire?" Leon's eyes roved to him, stunned and full of question.

Arthur turned around again and saw the trees thinning. There was a lake past that, more forests, and mountains. At least the water would prevent them from being attacked from behind. "The lake," Arthur commanded.

"Run," Merlin breathed against his neck. He was shaking in the king's arms; his eyes were unfocused. Crimson was spreading along his tunic. "Leave me."

Biting his lip, Arthur curtly ignored him, pulling him along with him. It was slow going, but within a few minutes, they made it to the lake. Pebbles and sand crunched under their boots, starkly different than the forest's underbrush. The king gently laid Merlin a few feet from the water's edge, drawing his own sword and turning back towards the forest. Gwaine stood next to him, helping to protect Merlin and Guinevere. It was at that exact moment that those blue dots rushed back at them.

Hundreds, perhaps thousands of them, whizzed past them, darting straight into the still waters of the lake...

...And leaving a beautiful young woman behind.

Arthur was so stunned by her sudden arrival that it took seconds for him to register that she was even there, enough time for her to rush to _his_ servant and fall beside him, grabbing at his coat. She pulled it away from the wound to expose the arrow piercing his gut and the large stain of blood still spreading. Fear shot through the young man, and he pointed his sword at her. Merlin was shuddering violently now. His eyes were closed, unaware of what was happening, but his pain was still too visible.

"Stay away from him!" he commanded harshly.

The young woman's eyes locked with his as her fingers curled around Merlin's arm. "I can help him, Arthur," she offered. Her messy brown hair fell across her face, and though her eyes were hard and unrelenting, the king registered something akin to desperation there, too. It surprised him.

But she was magic. That was painfully clear. He didn't lower his sword.

"Freya?"

Merlin's quiet voice broke the tense silence.

"F-Freya?" he asked again. His voice shook, but Arthur couldn't tell if it was the pain of his wound or because of his cautious hope.

The young woman's hand gently cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing below his eye. Her eyes grew compassionate, _loving_. "Hello, Merlin," she said softly.

"W-what are y-you d-doing h-here?"

Freya's smile grew sad, her eyes glistened. "I told you I would repay you someday. I promised you."

"What are you talking about?" Arthur demanded, taking another step forward. "Don't touch him! I won't let you take him!"

Merlin groaned as he turned his head to face his king. "A-Arthur."

"Stay out of this, Merlin."

"Y-you can trust h-her," he tried. "She-she means us n-no harm."

" _Mer_ lin."

"Trust m-me, Arthur. P-please."

The king faltered.

Freya didn't. She shot to her feet, anger lighting her eyes. "Merlin is hurt! You are too far away from Camelot to get him to Gaius in time! We don't have time for your prejudice, Arthur Pendragon!"

Arthur felt the shock of the woman's words pierced him as sharply as his own sword would have. She was right. But his mind still wouldn't function properly.

"What did you mean 'a promise'?"

All eyes turned to Gwaine.

"Prove to us that you mean no harm," the knight continued. He looked down at Merlin, who was breathing harshly. His agonized eyes were locked on the young woman before him. "What is there to repay?"

Freya looked slightly surprised, but she took a deep breath, crouching down next to Merlin again. She took his hand in hers. "Merlin saved me. Years ago. I promised him that, one day, I would return his kindness."

"Then do so." Arthur sheathed his sword and crouched down beside them. "Help him."

Her eyes glittered; she bit her lip. "Thank you."

"T-told you," Merlin mumbled. "H-he's not a c-complete clot-clotpole."

A small smile graced the young woman's lips and she shushed him. "Save your energy, Merlin."

Arthur ignored the comment. He sensed the rest of the knights, and Gwen, gathering around them. No doubt, they had as many questions in their heads as he did, but right now, the only thing that mattered was Merlin. "What can I do?"

Freya blinked and suddenly, there was no more humor in her eyes. Rather, there was a serious look in her eyes that the king had seen Gaius wear countless times as he treated patients. A look that he had seen Merlin himself wear.

"I need you to hold him still. We need to get the arrow out before I can heal him."

"Great," Merlin groaned into the sand. He flinched when he felt Arthur's hands press against his back. Other hands held down his legs.

"Merlin, please." Freya ran a hand through his hair, planting a small kiss into his hair.

Arthur did his best not to react to it. Not to let his absolute confusion show. He looked at Guinevere, who had the most bewildered look in her eyes. Even Gwaine. Well, at least he wasn't the only one who was out of the loop.

"Think of the strawberries," she grinned.

Merlin hummed in reply. Despite his seemingly happy tone, the king felt his best friend tense when Freya's lithe hand wrapped around the protruding arrow in his back. Arthur wrapped a hand over Merlin's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze of encouragement.

The young man grasped a section of his sleeve with his teeth, gritting out: "Do it."

The sound that followed was something Arthur wished to never hear again. The squelch of blood, the tearing of his friend's flesh, the muffled scream of agony as an arrowhead was ripped out of Merlin's back.

Freya threw it away quickly. Her hand was coated in blood. Merlin was panting heavily and shaking. The king did everything he could do to comfort his best friend. He had been hoping that Merlin would simply pass out, but it hadn't happened.

The young woman acted quickly. She placed her hand over the gaping hole in Merlin's back, eyes focused solely on the light that was beginning to radiate from her palm. Arthur felt a twinge of discomfort, but remembered _this is for Merlin._

In only seconds, the wound was a fraction of its original size. The woman's hands fell and she swayed. Exhaustion coated her eyes, but she steadied herself. "He still needs treatment, but his life is no longer in danger."

Merlin's breaths were shallower, but he was still conscious. Sweat glistened over his pale skin as he continued to shiver. The king couldn't imagine the pain he'd just been in.

Arthur sat stunned as he looked at the wound. Blood no longer poured from it. His best friend's life was no longer in danger. He met the woman's eyes, trying to convey his pure gratitude and honesty as he whispered, "Thank you."

"It's Merlin," she replied. Strangely, that was all that was needed. "I have to go now."

"No. Please." Merlin's glazed eyes cracked open, locking onto hers. "Stay."

Immediately, Arthur watched her small smile dip into a tearful frown. Her hand ran through his hair again. And again.

"You know that can never be, Merlin." The young man didn't reply. "You need your rest. Do me a favor and dream of the little house—"

"—beside the lake."

Her smile was back. "A few cattle."

"And mountains."

"You remember."

"Every moment."

Her hand stilled in his hair and she leaned forward, planting a gentle kiss on his lips. The young man kissed her back as much as he could before she pulled away.

"Goodbye, my love."

"...bye."

She stood and turned and walked away. She didn't turn back. Arthur felt like if she had, it would have been too hard for her to leave. Freya disappeared into the water, those blue dots encircling her and glittering around her as she descended.

Freya was gone. And yet Arthur heard her voice in his head as clearly as though she was standing in front of him.

" _Take care of him, Arthur Pendragon."_

He didn't know if she heard his reply of " _It's Merlin."_

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Thanks for reading!


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